


Countdown

by MrTulkinghorn



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Clocks, College, Existential Angst, Gen, Horror, Interns & Internships, Major Original Character(s), Night Vale Community College, Night Vale Community Radio, Professors, Radio, Strexcorp, Timelines, Weather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-20 00:18:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1489741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrTulkinghorn/pseuds/MrTulkinghorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new clock face is built on top of NVCR's radio tower, counting down to some mysterious event. Cecil delivers the news in spite of this because he is a radio professional.</p><p>Josh, radio host at Night Vale Community College, wants to be just like Cecil, but is feeling the pressures of his impending graduation.</p><p>Night Vale is streamlined, whether they like it or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Graduation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josh, radio host at Night Vale Community College, wants to be just like Cecil, but is feeling the pressures of his impending graduation.

_**Monday - 3:30 p.m.** _

**Today is a Q Day. Nothing ever happens on a Q Day. No, seriously, the Administration has forbidden it.**

**( _[theme music](https://soundcloud.com/disparition/satellite-state?in=disparition/sets/satellite-state) plays_ )**

**Good morning, Scorpions, and welcome to another dreary day at the NVCC Campus. This is Josh, bringing you all the updates for the week ahead.**

**In the wake of the NVCC Job Fair last evening, I’m feeling a little depressed. You know, Scorpions?**

**I mean, I’m _graduating_ in a few months. **

**And it's not that I'm feeling nostalgic about Night Vale Community College. It’s been great and all, but it’s hard to call this place _home_. I know all you commuters out there feel me. After Headmaster Collins added that Shun Commuters Day to Spirit Week, the old campus has felt a little colder. And then the Student Lounge mysteriously disappeared into that dark, purple fog with weird, slithering shadows in it…. I don’t know. There just hasn’t been a sense of _community_ for me.**

**I’m more depressed about my future. You know? There’s this overwhelming pressure from our administrators, our professors, our parents to _be something_ …to _make something of ourselves_. Then they pick this arbitrary date that we must accomplish this by.  **And I feel like there’s not enough me to make something out of, and not enough time in which to do it all.****

**I just received a rejection letter from Night Vale Community Radio. Seems they’re no longer accepting new interns. And I get it, I guess. New management, new direction. But, like, _that’s_ what I want to _be_. And I can’t _be_ it. And now I’m thinking…can anyone really _be_ anything? I mean, Headmaster Collins will retire soon…and then he won’t be Headmaster Collins anymore.**

**Half of the job fair tables weren’t even offering jobs. They were just Giant Worms.**

 

**All the small business owners from last year’s fair? Gone. No longer what they once were.**

**…**

**Sorry! Sorry. I’m bringing the mood down and we haven’t even gotten to the news yet! As our dearly departed theater instructor, Professor Stephenson, would say, “Stop sobbing! You don’t even _need_ the other kidney.”**

**So, on with the news:**

**The recent changes made to student schedules and course registration have been met with some resistance. Scorpions, you will recall that, as of last week, schedules no longer exist on campus. “Observing time as a linear progression is tedious,” said Headmaster Collins, in response to questions from _The Morass_ , NVCC’s student newspaper. “And making plans for months in advance is, at best, foolhardy,” he added menacingly, as the pale silver chains of his elaborate face piercings punctuated his statement with the sound of wind chimes.**

**Students looking to register for summer classes will be expected to just show up at random days and in random rooms, and hope that the class they wish to take is in session. “This will more accurately reflect the experiences of life after college, where your efforts will largely be met by random failures and undeserved negative consequences,” said Headmaster Collins. He then called for the armed guards of his private security team to violently escort the student journalists from his office.**

**The mandatory attendance rule, which states that every unexcused absence after the first two absences will result in a reduction of your final average, is still in effect.**

**In community news, a large clock face has been erected on top of the radio station antenna at NVCR. Karen, newly appointed Vice Principal of Educational Efficiency, released a statement on our school website, claiming that the clock would benefit all of us here in Night Vale as it would “bring us in step with the beating heart of Strex.” When I attempted to contact Vice Principal…Karen via e-mail for further comment, my laptop began to glow bright orange and became extremely hot to the touch. When it started to set fire to paper objects and dry goods near it, I was forced to call Campus Security to dispose of it.**

**We here at NVCC would like to thank the following Campus Security officers --** **George Jone,** **Leroy Schneider, and** **Samantha Diah --** **for their years of dedication to our school. You will be missed!**

**I can see the new clock from my booth, Scorpions, and it is _strange_. The numbers and the clock face are brilliantly lit, almost like a second sun in the sky. The light is dazzling, and…actually…it hurts a little to look at. **

**( _Josh sighs_ )**

**It’s counting down.**

**This is what I’m talking about, Scorpions. Everybody wants us to _be something_ , and we have to _be something_ at a certain place and a certain time, and if we don’t get with the program, we’re going to be left behind. They’re…retooling and…reshaping…our beloved community radio station to be something else and something new. **

**Even my boy Cecil at NVCR is…different. He is not the Cecil he once was. And if _he_ can’t be what he is…what chance do I have?**

**I feel like the only thing I can be, now, is left behind.**

**…**

**Ok, Scorpions, looks like we have an update from the Administration. It says here that Friday’s _Take Back the Night_ has been cancelled. The current owners of the Night are not looking to sell and have been increasingly hostile toward Student Life groups seeking to take the Night back from them. They will wage war on us, Scorpions. Protracted, bloody war without end. Women and children will be forced into hard labor or into twisted, howling sculptures to decorate the quad. No, seriously, leave the Night where it is and no one will get hurt. We’ve been talking – the Night doesn’t like you. Sorry.**

**Let’s go now to the cafeteria menu.**

**Today, you will have _options_. This will be a liberating, terrifying experience for all, as you, for the first time, feel like you honestly and truly have complete freedom. You will fight the urge to see your thoughts and actions as just one infinitesimal step in an ancient line of dominoes, a flickering moment sparked by every moment that came before it. You will fight this urge and feel, however briefly, that you can make a decision that has not been predestined by your genes, by the Administration, by your parents, by –**

**You know what, Scorpions? This menu goes on for…**

**( _flipping pages quickly_ )**

**Twelve pages. And honestly? If I can editorialize for a moment? Menus don’t need to be this long. We had an especially gory Midterms Week…and Finals Week promises to be even more brutal. We should be able to grab a quick slice of Surprise Meat _without_ the sermon.**

**And since we have some free time on our hands, let me talk about _me_ for a little bit. **

**I’m trying to not be discouraged about my rejection letter, but I’ve wanted to join the team at NVCR since I was just a kid! True, the program quality has taken a little dip recently with the constant schedule updates, stock market reports, and the sounds of blood running through some vast, empty machinery, but I still believe in community radio because I still believe in our community. We’ve seen a lot of changes in Night Vale recently, but our beloved radio station has remained constant and true. And I think that says something, Scorpions.**

**I think that says something.**

**I think that _saying_ something will have to be replaced by _doing_ something.**

**Scorpions, Cecil’s show will begin in just a few minutes. All the big wigs of Station Management are at NVCR right now to unveil the new clock face. As I leave you with Cecil, I am going to march over to NVCR and make my case to Station Management.**

**This is Josh…making something of himself… _being_ something…signing off.**


	2. Countdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new clock face is built on top of NVCR's radio tower, and it's counting down to some mysterious event. Cecil delivers the news in spite of this because he is a radio professional.

_**Monday - 5:00 p.m.** _

 

Fortune favors the bold. _Mis_ fortune favors the bold.  The level of your courage has no effect on your safety…but it may determine the safety of others.

 

Welcome…to Night Vale.

 

( _theme music plays_ )

 

Good evening, listeners. Tonight, I bring you something…unusual.

 

Station owner and disturbingly competent megacorporation, StrexCorp, constructed a massive, brilliantly lit clock face on top of this very radio station’s tower. I wish to point out that this is the _third_ time such a clock as been built within Night Vale’s city limits: the first was destroyed on the night of the Tree Lighting Ceremony a few months ago; the second, which replaced the Arby’s sign, mysteriously ascended into the heavens earlier in the week, and disappeared in an eerie, neon green light.

 

I had the opportunity to see this clock as it was being installed when I came into work today. It is a large, spherical object made of glass or crystal and when it was turned on, it shone with a fierce, all-encompassing light. It hurt to look at it, like a dull, insistent migraine just behind the eyes.

 

The town is bathed in its light and it appears to be midday out on the streets of Night Vale, even though it is surely evening.

 

The clock displays a countdown in its shimmering depths. One hour.

 

It is unclear, at this moment, what will happen when the clock runs out.

 

In a press statement, StrexCorp stated that this was the “final clock” they were going to build. “Seriously, we’ve done this dozens of times in dozens of other…charmingly…rustic…towns and we have never – You know what? We don’t have to explain this to you! You see this clock? Ours. This radio station? _Ours_. The _air_ you _breathe_?! OURS. Now, stop gawking and go meet your quotas,” the statement went on to say. The crowd of reporters was then dispersed with tear gas and strongly worded commands.

 

More on this story as it… _approaches_.

 

Let’s go to traffic….

 

There is an accident on the highway, and it will impact your evening commute.

 

There is a girl. Sitting by the side of a long stretch of road. She looks tired, heavy, dark circles dragging down on her eyes. She looks older than she is. She looks braver than she is. She looks safer than she is. She sits at the edge of the highway, looking out with those tired eyes and watches as cars pass her by and as her life passes her by and as all the lives of all the people she knew and all the people she’s ever known pass…her…by. She has traveled this road with all of these people – gone forward with them into the unknown and back with them into the familiar – and has never known a single one of them. If only she could reach out, she knows…she _just knows_ …she could bring them all together. And then, this road, this vast stretch of distance and metaphor, would finally _mean_ something, in a way that no other metaphor ever could because they are only words and feelings. She sits and waits and grows more tired in the waiting. She stands and looks across the highway to the other side. She has made a choice.

 

There is an accident on the highway and it will impact your evening commute.

 

This has been traffic.

 

And now, a word from our sponsors!

 

( _a pre-recorded message from Cecil plays_ )

 

Think different.

 

Go ahead. We will wait. Think of something… _different_.

 

…

 

No, sorry, that’s been done before. We want you to think of something _entirely new_.

 

…

 

How pedestrian. No, no, we want something entirely unique. Think outside the box!

 

Try to think of a new color. Or maybe create a storyline that’s never been written. Imagine a new way to tell someone you love them. Dream of a way to not weep over a lost loved one. Draw something from an entirely fresh and exciting perspective. Explain Creation with a twist, philosophize and politicize in a modern and original way. Say or do something that no one has ever said or done before.

 

…

 

No. You can’t do it, can you? So many people have thought of that before, and they did it so much better than you would have done if you had pursued it. What’s the point in even trying if you’re just going to give us the same old tired and derivative ideas we’ve already thought of?

 

We want something new.

 

Why can’t you give us something new?

 

THINK. DIFFERENT.

 

This message has been brought to you by Apple.

 

( _live broadcast resumes_ )

 

Let’s take a look now at the Community Calendar.

 

( _a pause; the sound of papers being shuffled_ )

 

Uh….

 

I’m sorry, listeners. My notes on the Community Calendar seem to have been misplaced – no, wait, here they are. Er…

 

This – this just says “StrexCorp Approved and Adjusted Efficiency Timetable.” It appears to be a year-long calendar…. There are only two things written on it. Today: Night Vale Countdown. Tomorrow: Silent, Obedient Labor. And then there is a little arrow that stretches from tomorrow to…

 

( _pages flipping_ )

 

…the end of this calendar year.

 

( _laughs nervously_ )

 

 

And this has been…uh…the Community Calendar.

 

Next up: _finance_.

 

Your heart skips a beat that you will never get back, and your own life is cut short by a mere second, but it is a second you will dearly miss when you need it.

 

Your lover forgets little details about you, like the sound of your laugh or the way you look when you sleep.

 

You lose time. When you enter a room and forget why, when you are late for appointments and meetings, when you think about the days and months you’ve wasted doing things or being with people that no longer mattered.

 

All of this – the skipped beats, the forgotten details, the lost time – all of this, falls down below, deep beneath the earth into the dark, undiscovered country. They pool together there, like blood. And one day, there will be enough to give life and form to your regrets. To all our regrets, each of us, individually. There will be a reckoning.

 

This has been… _finance_.

 

Listeners, Carlos – brave and trusty, Carlos – sent me a flurry of text messages during the last segment. He says that there have been a series of strange phenomena happening here in Night Vale. He quickly amended this to say that strange was a relative word and that, yes, he knows that all words are relative approximations of things.

 

He says that there appear to be several temporal rifts in town. He ran into Intern Dana, missing these many months, out near the old Cactus Needle Coffee Shop and Tattoo Parlor., which burned down _decades_ ago. She greeted him with a smile and nod and then, as she crossed the street, she disappeared.

 

Carlos did some more investigating, and discovered several similar instances of temporal displacement, as he called it in his intellectual, scientist type way. He says that the outskirts of town have not been terribly affected, but as you get close to the radio station, things start to get _weird_ – again, a word that only represents a relative approximation of reality, he writes. Parts of Route 800 have reverted to old, dirt paths; the Post Office, long-abandoned, has returned to its former, terrifying splendor and glory; and the First Mayor Pamela Winchell, who mysteriously disappeared during the last election, was seen arguing with and hissing at her current incarnation.

 

Carlos writes that StrexCorp’s clock, installed on top of this very radio station, is the source of these disruptions. As the countdown ticks away to its final minutes, the temporal disruptions are getting worse.

 

Listeners, he has just texted me again and has told me to _get out of the radio station_. He says that whatever’s happening to time, it is dangerous, and not just a relative approximation of danger, but _really_ and _truly_ dangerous.

 

( _a crash of thunder or of glass shattering or both)_

Night Vale, if the radio station – if our town – is truly in peril, then I must do everything that is in my power to save it.

 

I’m going up. I do not know what will happen when or if I get there. But…

 

It’s been my honor to share Night Vale with you, listeners. I leave you now with…the weather.

 

([Wave Goodbye _by Blackout Paul plays_](https://soundcloud.com/blackout-paul/wave-goodbye))


	3. Schedule

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night Vale is streamlined, whether they like it or not.

_**Monday - 3:30 p.m. ...again.** _

 

**There is no rest for the weary. There is no rest for the wicked. There is no rest for the dead. There is no rest for anyone!**

**Welcome to the Greater Desert Bluffs and Night Vale Community!**

 

**( _theme music plays; the music is brighter, cheerier_ )**

 

**Good evening, friends! I would like to offer our sincerest apologies for the technical difficulties we just experienced here at the good, old WTNV radio station!**

**It is important to us here at StrexCorp Synernists Inc. that we remain as efficient as possible. StrexCorp has a venerable history rooted in the business of time management, and how lucky for Night Vale that they have chosen to ply their trade in this lovely town!**

**Now, you may have heard rumors, perhaps from this very radio show, that time does not exist, that time is merely a figment of our collective imaginations to help us make sense of the decay and ruin we all experience in our daily lives.**

**Well, I am happy to report that those rumors are completely unfounded! Time _does_ exist and, boy, you’ve never seen it managed like StrexCorp manages it. We understand that Night Vale has lived with run-down watches and clocks filled with grey ooze, and that the time has not been strictly enforced.**

**But the installation of the StrexCorp clock has changed all of that, and this is only one of the many exciting changes taking place in town today!**

**So, let’s get right to it! Top story: me! My name is Kevin and I have faithfully served as the Voice of Desert Bluffs for many, many years, and I am just _so thrilled_ to join you all here in Night Vale! I know I have very large shoes to fill, but I am happy to get started!**

**Now, don’t you worry about Cecil.** **Two hosts for one show – well, that just doesn’t add up! We’ve sent the legendary Cecil off for some work in the field. I bet he’s thrilled to be getting his hands dirty again, and boy, will they be _filthy_ with all the news we have in store for today.**

**Old Woman Josie, town sweetheart, has returned to her beloved home! “Just went to visit my sister,” she said slyly, knitting away at a new pair of mittens. “Didn’t think you all would make such a fuss!” If you’d like to visit Old Woman Josie, please purchase a ticket from one of our StrexCorp kiosks near City Hall, and form an orderly line in the car lot. Oh, and be prepared to buy some lovely Old Woman Josie themed merchandise!**

**( _slurps_ )**

**Oh, this angel mug is just _darling_!**

**As we come up on the hour, please note on your timetables that we are about to enter our first session of StrexCorp Pre-Approved Home Labor. Productivity doesn’t end at the workplace, so make sure you use this time wisely! Here’s a helpful tip from your friends in Desert Bluffs: eat one of the** **Caffeinated, Cookie-flavored Work Bars** **provided for you when you received your timetables. It’ll give you that boost of energy you need to get through your home labor!**

**Our benefactors, StrexCorp, have also restored the Post Office for your –**

**( _static; the sound of wind and rain_ )**

Hello? Listeners? Hello!?

 

This is your host, Cecil Palmer, coming to you live from on top of the WTNV radio station building. I am joined by my boyfriend, Carlos, the scientist.

 

Carlos rushed over to the station with some very scientific-looking equipment when he heard my announcement that I was climbing up to the roof.

 

He has been poking around up on the tower with needles and sensors for a few minutes…really wish he’d hurry up. It’s really pouring out here.

 

He’s calling down to me now.

 

…

 

He says that the StrexCorp clock is, in fact, the source of the trouble in Night Vale. He says he thinks it is forcing a new timeline into the one we are currently a part of…. Riiight.

 

( _yelling_ )

 

Carlos! You’re talking nonsense! Time! Doesn’t! Exist!

 

( _distant muffled yelling_ )

 

No! I don’t have a better explanation! But where is this “new timeline?!” Are we –

 

( _static_ )

 

**\-- you may spend the next ten minutes participating in one of the StrexCorp Approved Decompression Exercises and Activities, listed on the right of your daily timetables. A _whole, ten minutes_ , folks! I don’t know about you, but I never like to take the all of the allotted time for these decompression exercises. There’s just _so_ much to do!**

**…**

**Uh. Listeners, Station Manager Lauren is here. She’s saying that there was something odd about the last segment. She’s saying that…our time is up? Don’t be silly, Lauren. Our time can’t be –**

**( _a roaring crash of thunder or glass shattering…no, it’s definitely glass shattering…rips through the microphone before the sound cuts out_** _)_


	4. Dusk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil picks up the pieces.

_**Monday - 6:30 p.m.** _

( _a few moments of silence_ )

 

( _the sound of a chair rolling closer_ )

Listeners?

 

…

  

I know that this is not the usual time for my show, but…. Well, I think “usual” and “time” are only vague approximations of what we just experienced.

 

A young man, clad in a purple NVCC Scorpions shirt and black jeans, appeared on the roof. He stared at me for a moment with an expression that I cannot describe. He glanced down at my hands.

 

“That’s it, isn’t it?” I did not know what he meant. “That,” and he pointed at my watch, “is the one, true time piece in all of Night Vale.” I admired the watch, a gift from Carlos, for a moment and then nodded. The young man grinned.

 

He looked up at the massive clock face where Carlos was with his scientific equipment, and then turned back to me.

 

“I like yours better,” he said. And then, listeners, in spite of the storm and the howling wind and the blinding light of the clock…he climbed. It did not take him long to reach the top. He exchanged a few words with Carlos before sending him back down to me.

 

The young man put his hands on the clock face. He flinched and jerked back, as if he had been burned or electrocuted. But then he smiled. He yelled down over the raging storm, “I love your show.”

 

He put his hands back on the clock face, which crackled and buzzed and sparked. Thick, acrid smoke began to pour from the clock as the young man pushed. He heaved himself, his entire body, against the clock and it began to shift from its unfinished moorings.

 

“I want to be… I want to be…! “ the young man yelled.

 

And he never finished his sentence, listeners. And…listeners…? I’m not sure that he meant to. I think he meant… _exactly_ …what he said.

 

The clock face fell from its great height. Al of that perfect, reflective crystal shattered against the concrete below. The grating roar it unleashed when it broke was deafening, but over in an instant. The storm calmed. And the night returned, deeper and darker than ever before.

 

We could not find the young man, who introduced himself to Carlos as Josh, after that. We found Lauren and Daniel in the break room, silent and still in their seats. We picked through the crystal shards of the former clock face outside and found…nothing.

 

Josh, wherever you are, your service to this station – and your service to Night Vale – will never be forgotten. You wanted to _be._ And you _were_. And, I like to think, still _are_.

 

Listeners, time is what we make of it. Too often we let it rule us and dictate our actions and our feelings because we believe it to be unalterable. Too often, we forget just how precious and impermanent it is. It is personal and subjective and unique to each and every one of us. I am looking at my watch, my gift from my Carlos…and it reminds me that it’s time to go home. Time to be with the people that I love. Time well spent.

 

I leave you now with the sounds of the night sky, lit only by stars, and the caress of the cool desert wind.

 

Goodnight, Night Vale.

 

 _Goodnight_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome To Night Vale is a production of Commonplace Books. It is written by Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor and produced by Joseph Fink. The voice of Night Vale is Cecil Baldwin. The voice of Kevin is Kevin Free.
> 
> The NVCC theme music is "Satellite State" by Disparition. All of Disparition's music can be found at www.disparition.info.
> 
> This episode’s weather was "Wave Goodbye" by Blackout Paul. Find out more at https://soundcloud.com/blackout-paul/
> 
> Check out commonplacebooks.com for more information on this show, as well as their books on The Unused Story Ideas of H.P. Lovecraft and What It Means To Be A Grown-Up, and while you’re there, consider clicking the donate link, that would be cool of you.
> 
> Today’s proverb: Seek, and ye shall find...nothing. What you have lost is gone forever. Sorry.


End file.
